


Wizarding World of Glee

by jakia



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakia/pseuds/jakia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little drabbles that cross Glee with Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wizarding World of Glee

\--

_Diagon Alley – Burt and Kurt_

 

Burt always knew Kurt was a strange kid.  That shouldn’t have been a surprise, really—his mother had been strange, too (a witch, she told him, and he didn’t believe her until she showed him, and even then he could scarcely believe it at times.) 

 

But following his eleven year old son and Madam—was it Sylvester? – down the street of what looked like a fairy tale was a bit much for the simple auto-mechanic to take.

 

He grabs Kurt and puls him closer.  “Don’t run off.”

 

“But _Dad_ —“

 

“Keep a hold of my hand.”

 

His son’s eyes shine brightly.  “Dad, that store has a _purple bunny rabbit._   Can I have one?”

 

Burt winces, trying to keep a hold of Kurt as he drags him through the crowded streets.  “Can’t we just get a puppy instead?”

 

“ _Dad_.  It’s _purple._ ”

 

Burt tries to think of how he’d explain to any visitors why, exactly, Kurt’s pet rabbit was purple.  “I bet it sheds.” He says instead, and watches as his son’s face immediately falls.

 

“I wouldn’t want it if it sheds.” Kurt admits, brushing off his entirely-too-expensive-for-an-eleven-year-old-boy-to-want coat.  His eyes get bright suddenly as he gasps.  “But what if I can just _magic_ the hair away? Then I could have a bunny that doesn’t shed!”

 

Burt couldn’t help but grin.  “And it’d be purple.”

 

 _“And it’d be purple_ —oh my _God_ , Dad, can we get one, _please?”_

 

Burt chuckles as he pulled his son along, trying to follow blonde-haired witch who was supposed to be their guide as she left them behind in the dust.  “We’ll ask Madam Sylvester, first.  Don’t want to get something you can’t take to school with you.”

 

“What harm would a bunny do?  Don’t wizards pull them out of hats?” His son’s eyes twinkles.  “Did Mom ever pull a bunny out of a hat?”

 

“Not that I can remember,” Burt admittes, grinning at the mental image of his late wife pulling a bunny rabbit out of a baseball cap.  “But she tried not to use magic too much.  She didn’t want to get caught, because we lived out in the suburbs with, uh—“

 

He wants to say _normal people_ , but he doesn’t want Kurt to feel _abnormal_ either, so—

 

“Muggles, Dad.” Kurt supplies fondly.

 

“Yeah.  Muggles.  Non-magic folk, like me.”

 

Kurt leans in closer to him.  “I wish Mama were here.”

 

He tugs Kurt close in a half-hug.  “I wish she were, too.”

 

“I bet she’d be nicer than Madam Sylvester.”

 

“She’d be so proud of you, Kurt.  Going to Hogwarts, learning magic like she did—that’s all she ever wanted for you.” He kisses the top of Kurt’s head.  “I’m proud of you, too.”

 

His son blushes shyly.  “I—thanks Dad.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Burt grins.  “Now come on, let’s go get all this---wizard stuff that you need, before school starts.”

 

Kurt grins mischievously.  “And a bunny?”

 

“And _maybe_ a bunny.  We’ll see.”

 

“Yayyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

* * *

 

_Flourish and Blotts – Blaine and Cooper_

“Psh, I don’t even see why you need all these schoolbooks.  I’m one of the best wizards of our generation, and I never read a one of them.”

 

Blaine sighs and grabs another copy of _the Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)._   “You didn’t get a single N.E.W.T. and you barely passed your O.W.L.s.  I’d _hardly_ say you were the best wizard of our generation.”

 

“Mwra- _ow_.  The little squirt sure is sassy today.” Cooper grins, grabbing his significantly smaller brother and spinning him.  “What’s eating you?”

 

“Nothing.” Blaine grumbles, grabbing a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_.  “I just—why couldn’t Dad take me school shopping?”

 

Cooper frowns.  “ ‘Cause he had to work, Squirt.  You know that.”

 

“Yeah, but he’s _always_ at work.  What’s he doing that he’s got to always be gone so much?”

 

“Well, he’s an Unspeakable, so he can’t really talk about it?” Cooper says quietly.  “You know he’d be here if he could.  You _do_ know that, don’t you Blainey?”

 

The eleven year old huffs.  “I _know_ that.  I just—“ He looks around the busy shop nervously.  “He should be here.  That’s all.”

 

Cooper frowns, but doesn’t quite know what to say.  “You know he does important work for the Ministr—“

 

“I _know_ , Coop.” Blaine sighs, sounding all at once too old for his age.  “Come on.  I think I have all the books I was supposed to get.  I just need a wand and then I’ll be done.”

 

“And maybe some ice cream, right?”

 

Blaine smiles for the first time all afternoon.  “And maybe some ice cream.”

 

“And we can look at broomsticks, too, right? I mean, you can’t be the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts history since _Harry Potter_ if you don’t have your own broomstick.”

 

Blaine blushes.  “Cooper—“

 

He runs his hand through his brother’s perfectly gelled-down curls.  “Come on, Squirt.  Live a little.”

 

 

* * *

 

_2 nd Hand Brooms – Finn and Carole_

She _really_ cannot afford this.

 

It was bad enough learning that Christopher—her darling, dearly-departed husband—had been a wizard.  It had been even more of a shock to learn he hadn’t died of a drug overdose like she’d been told, but rather the lingering effects of a curse a dark wizard placed on him years ago.

 

And now Finn—her darling, sweet baby boy—was going to follow in his father’s footsteps. 

 

And he was just so _happy_ about it.

 

“Mom,” Finn pulls her into the broomstick store.  “Mom, I need a broom.  Professor Schuester said they play a sport on brooms called _Quidditch_ , and I wanna play.”

 

Professor Schuester—the man who has been guiding them around Diagon Alley, the one with curly hair and too much of an interest in Finn for Carole to feel okay leaving them alone --smiles at him warmly.  “Well, first years don’t play Quidditch.  So you’d have to wait until next year before you could play.”

 

Carole shoots him a grateful look, even as Finn looks like a crushed puppy.  She glances over at the prices of the brooms, and thinks how much she’d already spent (on robes, on a wand, on schoolbooks) compared to what is in her bank account.

 

“Maybe for Christmas.” She says sadly, and promises to herself that she would work double-shifts in order to get one for him before the next school year.

 

 

* * *

 

_Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions – Russel, Judy, and Lucy Quinn_

 

They had a potion that could turn your hair permanently blonde.  They had one that could get rid of the pimples on her face, and they had one that could make her not need glasses anymore.  They had one that can make you thinner that she’s been taking since summer started, because the very last thing she wanted was to go off to Hogwarts as ugly as she had been at home.

 

She holds her mother’s hand as she listens to her father ask Madam Primpernelle if they made a potion that could fix her nose, too.

 

“Yes,” Madam Primpernelle says finally, looking Lucy---no, looking _Quinn_ —over sadly.  “But she’s awfully young, don’t you think?”

 

“It’s what my little Quinny wants, isn’t it, dear?”

 

Lucy thinks about the life she used to have, and what she used to look like—fat and friendless and so terribly alone—and she nods slowly. 

 

“Of course it is, Daddy.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The Leaky Cauldron – The Puckermans_

Puck doesn’t want to be here.

 

He’s _supposed_ to be getting his school supplies, but instead he has to sit here with his drunk-ass father as he hits on a waitress, who doesn’t particularly look like she wants them here, either.

 

It doesn’t take much for him to slip past his father.  He thinks about just going home—leaving Diagon Alley entirely—but something caught his eye.

 

A boy, about five years younger than him, with a box of Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs and a look of mischief on his face.

 

Puck grins and sneaks up on him.  “You going to make them all go off at once?”

 

The boy jumps and immediately tries to hide the box of pranks.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“It’s better to set them off one by one, with just a little bit of a delay,” Puck explains, sneaking the box away from the younger boy.  “Because then they think the chaos is almost done right when another one goes off.”

 

The boy stares at him, and Puck gets a good look at his face.  It’s almost like looking at a mirror.  The boy is younger, of course, and his skin was darker, but—they could be brothers.

 

The younger boy held out his hand.  “My name is Jake.”

 

“Noah,” he grins.  “But everyone calls me Puck.  How old are you?”

 

“Seven.”

 

“Well, I’m eleven, so I’ve been doing this longer than you.” He broke open the box of pranks, and started lining them up in a row.  “But don’t worry---I’ll show you everything I know.”

 

 

* * *

 

_Sugarplum's Sweets Shop – Dr. Jones and Mercedes_

 

Mercedes’s dad is a _dentist._ Everyone always forgets that.

 

Mercedes certain doesn’t, especially not after she has to sit and listen to her father lecture to the owner of the sweet shop—as well as anyone else nearby who can hear them—about the amount of sugar content in these candies and how they can ruin your teeth.  No, he doesn’t _care_ that magic can fix them—he’s been a dentist for nearly twenty years now, and the amount of sweets these children are eating is _appalling._

 

Luckily, Madam Beiste—who told Mercedes that she’s actually part-giant in addition to being a witch—sneaks Mercedes’s away from the shop while her father’s not looking.  “You wanna go ahead and get your robes fitted, Pumpkin?  I think he’s going to be in there for a while.”

 

Mercedes has never wanted to hug a near-stranger more.

 

 

* * *

 

_Magical Menagerie – Brittany and her mom_

 

“You sure you want a cat, sweetheart?” Phoebe Pierce asks her daughter, who is holding on to a rather obese tabby cat rather tightly.  “He’s not even magical, sweetie.  Are you sure you don’t want an owl or a magic cat instead?”

 

Brittany shakes her head, and squeezes the cat closer to her.  “No, mama.  I want this one.  He’s a good one, I can tell.”

 

On the inside, the dark Lord Tubbington screams in horror.

 

 

* * *

 


End file.
